


Blighted

by electric_red



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, F/M, Novelization, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electric_red/pseuds/electric_red
Summary: Being confined to a tower for thirteen years does not exactly set you up to be the best Warden to end the Blight, but Solona Amell does what she must.(WIP)





	1. Prologue: 9:17 Dragon

Usually First Enchanter Irving was a patient, kind and soft-spoken man, but Knight-Commander Greagoir of the Templars in charge of keeping order in Kinloch Hold had pushed him to his limit. They’d been on tenterhooks for many years, as Mages and Templars were wont to do. He sighed as he pushed the pile of papers on his desk away from him, rubbing at his eyes. His eyesight wasn’t what it used to be in his younger days, and he was often plagued by troublesome headaches and the presence of the irate Knight-Commander did little to relieve his pain.

Earlier that day the Templars had brought in an initiate; a unregistered Mage that that Chantry decreed must be captured by the Templars and taken into one of the many Circle of Magi in Thedas. It wasn’t unusual, it happened every other month or so but this particular initiate was a six year old girl. She’d been discovered in Kirkwall after witnessing the death of her own father by a common street thug had enraged her into magic. Magic that she used to kill the man who had attacked her father. _Blood magic._

It was a truly unfortunate situation, but as First Enchanter Irving suspect, the use of blood magic had almost definitely been an accident. The child, her name Solona, had been frightened, angry and she had drew from the most potent mana source around: her father’s blood. It left Irving in an uncomfortable situation. He felt it was his duty to protect young, unregistered mages but blood magic, of course, was always bad news.

Not to mention that the child was the firstborn of the Amell’s of Kirkwall, a Noble family in high regard over in the Free Marches. Irving imagined Greagoir was feeling some pressure from the Templars there, too, since the decision had been made to bring the girl to Ferelden. According to the report, when the Templars had turned up at the Amell estate claiming custody of the young girl, her mother had vehemently refused to the point where she had to be restrained. When they’d performed their tests on Solona and found she did, indeed, possess magical ability they had thought it prudent to test her younger brother too. Unfortunately for their mother he also had the same affinity for magic, and was shipped off to the Kirkwall Circle, as they tried to avoid sending relatives to the same Circles where possible. Irving felt truly sorry for the woman. In one week she’d lost her husband and both of her children.

“Knight-Commander,” Irving said calmly, leaning his elbows on his desk and steepling his hands. “You must reconsider, she is a child.”.

“I cannot. The law is quite plain on the matter of blood magic, you know this as well as I.” Knight-Commander Greagoir replied, only momentarily stopping his incessant pacing to address Irving coolly. The Knight-Commander was a big man, imposing and burly with a large, greying-brown beard covering the bottom half of his face, the same grey-brown hair brushed back on his head.

“I am aware of the laws, yes.” Irving replied with a heavy sigh. The Templars were a stubborn bunch, but he had some sympathy for Greagoir, his job wasn’t easy. “But I highly doubt that she was even aware of what she was doing, surely there is some leeway? Some sympathy for a child who saw her father murdered in front of her very eyes?”

“No, I cannot allow her to apprentice here.”

“Greagoir, please. This decision will bring trouble for both of us, surely you can see that?”

The Knight-Commander stopped again, whirling around and striding to the First Enchanter’s desk, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword out of habit. “Do you think I care what the Seekers think? I’m protecting the people of Thedas!” 

“From a child?”

“From a blood mage!” The Knight-Commander said, slamming his fist down on the desk in front of Irving, sending the papers, along with Irving’s personal effects scattering to the ground. The First Enchanter kept his gaze locked to the Knight-Commander, refusing to back down for a moment.

“What if... “ He sighed, relenting under the Knight-Commander’s gaze as he looked at his own hands. He leant back in his chair which creaked in complaint and looked back at Greagoir. “What if I removed the memory of her father’s death and the blood magic?”

Greagoir narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He hated using magic to deal with magic, it was the Templars job to deal with unruly mages. “What difference would that make?”

“She wouldn’t have the anger that she does right now, for one, and she wouldn’t remember ever casting. She likely wouldn’t remember how to draw from blood. Then we could educate her here as a Circle mage, she would have no reason to resort to blood magic again.”

“Resort? Is that what it is? Blood mages do it for the power, First Enchanter.” Greagoir gave a deep sigh, and took a seat in the chair opposite Irving, pulling his gauntlets off and laying them carefully on the table.

“And what does a six year old girl want with the power of blood magic?” Irving asked. He couldn’t stop look of disbelief that crossed his face.

Greagoir shook his head in reply. “I cannot say. This… ritual, is it? How would you do it?”

“It would require entering the Fade. I will ask the Senior Enchanters for help.”

“No.” Greagoir said. “Get someone else from outside of Kinloch. I will not have the Seekers knocking down my door claiming conspiracy.”

“Very well. Does that mean you consent?”

“I consent on the condition that I will watch this girl like a hawk. She will not able to go anywhere or do anything without a Templar watching her, understood? And if she so much as puts one foot out of line I will not hesitate to act accordingly and with haste.” The Knight-Commander rose from his seat, putting his gauntlets back on and arched an eyebrow in question at First Enchanter Irving.

Irving nodded. “Understood, Knight-Commander.”


	2. The Harrowing: 9:30 Dragon

“Shh.”

Honestly, this girl was so quick and eager with her noises. Solona was sure that under any other circumstances she would thoroughly and enthusiastically encourage such wanton auditory passion but this was hardly a normal circumstance. Well, she supposed to anyone outside of the Circle of Magi in Ferelden it wouldn’t be normal, but in the tower? It was absolutely a regular occurrence to walk around the corner in the middle of the night and be greeted by two mages going at it in the shadows in the upper library. 

Deft, practiced fingertips brushed against her partner’s most sensitive area beneath her smallclothes and another moan punctuated the silence, echoing around the library. Solona closed her eyes in mild annoyance. At this rate they were going to get caught, and getting caught not only out of bed but engaging in such physical activities earned a harsh punishment. Probably some time in the cells, thinking about what a mistake it was.

“Diana…” Solona tried to say it softly and without any exasperation but it didn’t quite come out that way.

“I know.” Diana whispered in reply, running a shaky hand through messy blonde hair. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. It’s never felt--”

Already weary of more noise, Solona pressed her lips against Diana’s again, pulling the other girl’s hands back around her waist, her own fingers threading through the tousled hair and tugging lightly. Solona was a little taller than Diana by a couple of inches, but pressed as close together as they were made the difference seem larger.

“Don’t say sorry, I _like it_... just keep it down or someone will hear us.” She murmured against Diana’s lips through hasty kisses. “You know what will happen if we get caught, don’t you?” Sometimes Solona half wondered if that wasn’t part of the reason she enjoyed sneaking out of bed and to the upper library to fool around. The thrill of being caught. It was always like that though, it had to be, there was no opportunity for anything else, ever. apprentices and mages had shared dormitories, it was only the Senior Mages of the Circle that had their own bedchambers. What she wouldn’t do for her own bedchamber. 

Diana nodded, whimpering into the kiss as Solona slipped her hand back down the front of her smallclothes. Diana’s own hand reached up and cupped the back of Solona’s head, fingers tangling in the taller girl’s dark, shoulder-length waves.

“Solona, _is that you?_ ”

Solona heart leapt into her throat and began pounding heavily, threatening to burst from her chest. She yanked her hand free from where it had been, whirling around and putting distance between Diana and herself in a futile attempt to make the situation less conspicuous. Diana looked wide-eyed and gave a shriek. _More noise._

“ _Ugh._ Maker take you, Anders.” She grumbled with a dismissive wave of her hand when she spotted the older mage with a devilish grin on his face, waggling his eyebrows at Solona. He leant against the bookshelf in front of them.

“And what are two young apprentices doing in the upper library at this time of night?” He said, eyes flickering between Solona and Diana. From the expression on his face he knew exactly what they had been doing and it had nothing to do with the books they’d left open on the table near them as a hasty cover should they hear a Templar approaching.

Anders was a slim, twenty-something mage with blonde hair always pulled back into a ponytail. He was infamous within the Circle for his attempts to escape, occasionally he would actually succeed but was inevitably dragged back by angry templars. Despite the punishments he received, it didn’t seem to put him off from hatching his next plan of escape almost immediately. 

Just then another mage walked by Anders, stopping briefly to give him a kiss to the cheek that Anders smiled at. Solona thought his name was Karl, she’d seen him and Anders talking sometimes, but hadn’t know they were sleeping together. Not that it surprised her, Anders was always sleeping with someone.

“Same thing as you, apparently.” Solona replied with the quirk of an eyebrow.

Anders snorted, and pulled one of the open books on the table towards him. “I assure you, I was _not_ reading ‘101 Practical Applications for Elfroot.”

“I’m… going to go, Solona. I’ll see you later?” Diana said, fidgeting with her hands, looking altogether highly uncomfortable with the situation.

Solona looked at her and even in the dim light provided by the glowstone lamps she could she Diana looked pale and she felt bad for the girl. Anders had scared them both, but Diana was new to the Circle and still terrified of the Templars. “Yes, goodnight.” _Well,_ thought Solona, _there goes my fun._

“Awh.” Anders said as he watched Diana leave. “Did I scare her away?”

Solona sighed and sit down on a chair at the table. “She’s new, so yes, probably.”

“New to the Circle or new to girls?” He asked with a knowing smile before joining her, sitting down on the chair opposite and leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table.

Solona gave a short laugh. “Both.”

Anders tutted. “Why do you always go for the curious ones? I’ll never see the appeal.”

Solona gave a shrug. “I am merely sating their curiousity, Anders. I would hate for their questions to go unanswered.” Then she frowned. “Besides, they’re less likely to be clingy.” Solona visibly shuddered. She’d had bad experience in the past with persistent ex-lovers and, after all, it was difficult to avoid someone when they shared a living space.

“Surely they’re not as good, either?”

Solona shrugged again. “Some aren’t so bad. They are still girls after all, and girls aren’t as complicated as you think.”

“There _are_ feminine girls who like women, you know?”

“Yeah?” Solona asked, quirking an eyebrow at the older mage. “Please do point them out.”

“Well, I mean there’s Anna…” Anders offered, his face screwing up as he said so.

“Anna is insane.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Solona.”

“Did I look like I was begging?”

“Ha. I suppose not.” He sat back in his chair and placed his hands in his lap, glancing down at them momentarily. “You should give men a try, they’re not so bad.” He gave her a slow wink before laughing.

Solona rolled her eyes. It was always the same with Anders. He had a one-track mind. “You think I haven’t?” She shrugged. “They’re okay.”

“Oh no, I’m not talking about an apprentice, I’m talking about a _real_ mage. There’s this thing I can do with my fingers--”

“Alright, thanks.” She said, holding up her hands. “I don’t want to hear about what you can or cannot do with your fingers.”

Anders shrugged, but he looked amused at Solona’s reaction nonetheless. “Your loss.”

“I’m sure it is.”

There was silence for a moment, both of them listening for signs of anyone approaching. It still seemed like everything was quiet in the Tower, it was rare that a templar hadn’t come by already, usually they passed through the upper library every half hour or so on patrol. Perhaps something was going on.

Anders interrupted her thoughts. “So, I heard something rather interesting.”

“Oh?” She asked, meeting his gaze. Anders did like his gossip.

“Your friend, Jowan, is it? Francis caught him in a Chantry storeroom with his breeches down and a Sister’s mouth on his cock.”

That _did_ surprise Solona. Her eyebrows shot up. “Truly?”

“Truly. You didn’t know?”

“I…” She shifted in her seat, “I suspected he was up to something. He kept disappearing and returning with a stupid grin on his face, a bit like the one you had when you interrupted me, actually. I guess that explains that.” Her brow knit. “A Sister, though?”

Anders nodded. “You know what the pious ones are like. All that inner shame and celibacy makes them extra kinky.”

Solona highly doubted that. Most of the Sister that served in Kinloch Hold were old and unkind women that enjoyed reminding the Mages that were were the Maker’s curse on mankind for their past sins.

“Which Sister?” She asked.

“Lily.”

“Ah.” Lily was the newest Sister, a young, pretty girl with red hair. She could see the appeal.

“Anyway,” Anders said, placing his palms on the table and pushing himself up. “I need to get going. Greagoir will be doing his personal nightly check up on me soon.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Anders laughed. “You should get back too before Cullen gets out your phylactery because he hasn’t seen you in 30 minutes.”

Solona rolled her eyes. “Stop it. It’s not funny. He follows me everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was under this table, right now.” As if to emphasise her point, she glanced under the table. Cullen wasn’t there, of course. She sighed before standing up, grabbing the book from the table and slotting it onto the nearest bookshelf, the Tranquils could worry about it if it were in the wrong place. She was going to bed.

 

The next day was Sunday, neither apprentices nor mages had classes that day, except for a few rare cases of personal tutelage. Sundays were meant to be their day of reflection and prayer within the Chantry and they were mandatory.

Which made it all the more confusing when Jowan turned up late, smoothing out his robes and his hair messy. Solona narrowed her eyes at him as she watched him enter, as she watched him stammer as excuse to the Templar by the door who just shrugged and told him to sit down and shut up, and as he slumped down onto the hardwood bench beside her.

“Hello.” He said, pulling out his copy of the Chant of Light from his robe pockets. He had that stupid grin on his face.

Solona quirked an eyebrow at him questioningly. He sighed.

“I was busy, alright?”

“Uh huh.” She replied, turning the page in her own book. The Revered Mother was at the front of the chapel leading the prayer, well, more like droning on, reading passages from the Chant of Light that they had all heard a thousand times before.

“Solona,” He began. “Can you meet me in the upper library tonight? One hour after curfew? I need to talk to you.”

Solona frowned. “I have plans.”

Jowan rolled his eyes. “With that girl? Please, this is important.”

Solona sighed. “Fine. If it’s about…” She glanced towards Lily, who was stood beside the Revered Mother, eyes occasionally flickering towards Jowan with a happy smile on her face.

“I told Francis not to tell anyone, Maker’s breath!”

The Revered Mother slowed her speech down and gave Jowan a cold stare, he looked back down at his book, embarrassed.

“He told Anders.”

“Great, so everyone knows?”

Solona shrugged. “I doubt it. Most people don’t listen to Anders’ gossip anymore.”

“Ugh.” He ran a hand over his face. “Well, anyway. It’s kind of about that. I’ll tell you tonight, okay?”

 

“Apprentice Amell?”

Solona looked up from her book to see Templar Cullen standing over the table. Her brow knit momentarily and she closed the tome in front of her. It was very strange for a templar to address an Apprentice by name, it usually meant that they were in trouble of some kind. She knew better than to even tempt the templars with a toe out line where they could see it, at least, lest she be accused of blood magic and made Tranquil. The templars were a jittery lot, as if they believed that they were in constant danger from the mages within the Circle of Magi.

“Templar?” Solona asked, trying her best to keep her expression and tone neutral. Inside her stomach was churning and her mind was racing, trying to think back of everything that she’d done over the past couple of weeks, had she given the templars any cause to mistrust her? Had Diana actually given them away the other night in the library? She didn’t know, it was impossible to tell. Sometimes the templars just took a dislike to certain apprentices, she’d seen it happen before and the results were never pleasant. 

“Come with me.” He gave a wave of his hand, gesturing for her to follow him.

Solona was hit with a wash of dread, and she searched Cullen’s face for any indication of emotion. Ever the vigilant templar, his face said nothing. With a scowl she got to her feet and allowed him to lead her out of the library and up the stairs. They walked in silence, the Tower quiet as usual, and the apprentices that were around hushed their conversations as Solona and Cullen walked by, they stared at Solona as she passed, a mixture of concern, doubt and sorrow on their faces. It made Solona feel worse as she followed him, climbing higher and higher in the Tower. The higher they got, the colder the air became, until they reached the stairwell to the fifth floor, where Solona could see her breath mist in front of her.

Without warning Cullen grabbed Solona’s wrist and shoved her up against the hard, cold stone wall of the corridor. Solona gasped, nearly stumbling down the stairs and grabbed at his wrist. He was too strong for her, and despite her best efforts to shake him off she could barely move him. He put his gauntlet over her mouth roughly, silencing any protests she may have had. She stared at him, trying her best to not appear frightened, but she was. All Mages were frightened of templars. He looked at her, his expression unreadable, before dropping his arm and giving her breathing room when he thought she wasn’t going to bolt or call for help. Not that calling for help would have done anything, undoubtedly she would have been blamed, regardless what had occurred.

“Don’t trust anyone or anything in there, I don’t want to have to kill you.” He glanced up the stairs as he said this, as if he was waiting for someone to appear at the top and catch him in the act of… doing whatever it was he was doing.

Solona frowned and pushed him back away slightly, uncomfortable with their close proximity, and straightened out her robes. “What are you talking about?” She asked in the same hushed whisper he had used.

He sighed and glimpsed away again. “It’s your Harrowing.”

“Oh.” Solona said, the dread that she had felt earlier being replaced by anxiety. The Harrowing. It was a ‘test’ of some sort that Apprentice mages underwent after they had turned eighteen. She was already nineteen, almost twenty so she had expected that it was coming, even if it had been over a year in waiting. For months after she had turned eighteen she had sleepless nights worrying about being dragged away for her Harrowing in the middle of the night by a bunch of unsympathetic Templars. 

She didn’t know what the test was either, no one knew, the mages were absolutely forbidden to talk about it, and whenever they were asked they got this far-away look of fear on their faces. The Harrowing was a frightening thought whispered in the dark by terrified apprentices. She only knew that sometimes, when an apprentice underwent their Harrowing they didn’t return, _at all_ , or they did return having had their consciousness separated from the Fade and made into a Tranquil; a husk of a human that Solona considered the greater of two evils. She’d rather die than be made Tranquil. The others that did pass their Harrowing? They were affirmed as mages and moved up in the Tower away from the apprentices and the secrecy surrounding The Harrowing continued.

Her frown faded as she considered what Cullen had said. Don’t trust anyone or anything? To add anything implied that there might be something else that she would have to endure for this ‘test’. He was looking at her intensely, as if he was struggling with some inner conflict. Solona was well aware that he was breaking numerous rules by telling her what he had, and she wondered why he had done it. He’d always seemed so stoic and wary, a man of few words and many scowls.

“Are you ready?” He asked, stepping back from her personal space altogether.

Solona took in a deep breath. What was she supposed to say? No? She didn’t want think about what would happen if she said no. She didn’t have a choice. She had to be ready. She shrugged at him. “Do I have a choice?”

He gave her a sad look and she almost felt bad for answering like she had, but he had asked her the question, what good would lying have done. “No, you don’t.”

She swallowed and blew air from her nose. “Cullen, is it?”

He gave a nod.

“Thank you, then, Cullen.” She said, and gestured towards the stairs. “Lead the way.”

Cullen pushed open the creaking, aged wooden door first and held it open for Solona to walk through. She muttered her thanks as she past, and walked into the Harrowing Chamber. She’d never been in here, of course. It was a dimly lit, spherical roof with a great, domed, partially glass ceiling that allowed soft moonlight in. The most disturbing thing, however, was that aside from the pillars running in a circle acting as supports for the ceiling, there was no other decoration, aside from a small, circular altar in the centre of the floor.

She felt Cullen’s gloved hand on her back between her shoulders and he silently urged her forward. Standing just behind the altar was Knight-Commander Greagoir, a greying, impatient man in charge of the templars within this particular Circle of Magi, two helmeted templars that she couldn’t identify and old First Enchanter Irving. He smiled at her. He had a gentle, kind smile and eyes that spoke of a great wealth of knowledge, as if he was always seeing, always watching.

“Good evening, Solona.” First Enchanter Irving greeted her, gesturing her over to them.

She approached warily, but kept her head held high in a display of confidence. She wasn’t entirely sure who was was trying to convince of her confidence - them or herself. She bowed low to the First Enchanter, and then to the Knight-Commander who watched her suspiciously, as if expecting her to commit some sort of crime.

“Do you know your Chant, girl?” He asked.

“Of course.” Solona replied, unable to meet his scrutinising gaze for long, instead her eyes flickered to the altar, now that she was closer she could see there was a large bowl balancing on it, a bright, glowing blue liquid contained within. She knit her brow at it momentarily. Was that Lyrium?

“‘Of course, _Knight-Commander._ ’” He emphasised with a frown. “And what does it say about magic?”

She shifted her weight to the other foot, the immediate answer of ‘a load of bollocks’ being entirely inappropriate for the situation. She thought she knew the answer. The Chant of Light had been drilled into her by the Sisters serving here the moment she arrived and she was forced to study it almost as much as she was magic, even though it was far less interesting.

“‘Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.’ Knight-Commander.” She looked up at Greagoir as she finished, defiance in her eyes. He stared back, as if wanting to question her insolence but instead gave a small nod.

“Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it is also a curse. Your affinity for the arcane draws unwanted attention from malevolent spirits from the Fade that seek to use you and your body as a gateway into this world.”

Solona nodded as he spoke, she’d heard all of this numerous times before, surely there was some reason he was bringing this up? Other than a pointless exercise in her education. The bowl of Lyrium caught her eye again, and a thought crossed her mind. Surely the didn’t want her to enter the Fade deliberately?

“This is why The Harrowing exists, Solona. You will be sent into the Fade and what happens there will determine the rest of your life.” The First Enchanter spoke now, a certain sorrowful tone to his voice as he relayed the information to her. “You will face a demon.”

“A demon.” Solona replied, not as a question, but as a confirmation of what Irving had sent. “What happens if I fail?” The question fell out before Solona could stop herself and she cursed herself inwardly, wishing she hadn’t said anything. She didn’t want the Templars to think she was weak.

“You will become an abomination and we will be forced to slay you.” Knight-Commander Greagoir said plainly, the corner of his mouth twitching ever-so-slightly. “My advice would be not to fail.”

It took a lot of Solona’s self control to not reply sarcastically to the Knight-Commander’s advice. Instead, she took a deep breath. 

The Knight-Commander waved his hand over the basin on the altar. “This is Lyrium. The very essence of magic, and your gateway into the Fade today.”

“Solona,” First Enchanter Irving gestured for her to come closer to the altar. She did so, gazing down into the bowl of brilliant blue liquid, there was something oddly enchanting about it, pale blue wisps of smoke rose from it, swirling around in the air and is Solona listened closely enough so could have swore she heard whispering. “You understand that The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity. Every mage must go through this trial by fire, so that we are able to know you are strong enough to resist the demons that plague every person born with magical talent. Do not worry, I have faith in you… but… do keep your wits about you, the Fade can be a dangerous place, especially to those naive to the ways of demons but you must know,” He placed his hand over his chest. “What is in your heart and your mind is real. Know that, and the demons have no power over you--”

“That’s quite enough, First Enchanter.” Greagoir interjected, giving Irving a reproachful look like he had said too much.

“Ah, forgive me, Knight-Commander. I am getting sentimental.” He bowed his head in apology to the Knight-Commander.

“Are you ready, girl?” Greagoir asked.

“Yes.” Solona said with a nod. It wasn’t like she had a choice. She doubted they would allow he to return to her quarters and just live out the rest of her days as an Apprentice. It was a nice thought, but futile.

First Enchanter Irving pointed to the bowl of Lyrium. “Place your hand over it, child.”

With a last deep breath to steel her nerves Solona held her hand out over the basin, noting with annoyance that it shook slightly. She could feel the First Enchanter’s eyes on her and she felt ashamed of her own fear, at least the Knight-Commander wasn’t close enough to see her quivering. With a last, small look and the softest of nods to Cullen in thanks, she lowered her hand.

Instantly, as if drawn to her hand, Lyrium jumped upwards from the bowl, and connected with her palm. She watched as it spread through her fingers and her skin, creating a glowing, winding path is it went. She could feel the magic pulsing within her blood. There was a brilliant flash of white light, and Solona raised her hand to cover her eyes, her head beginning to pound from the intensity of the light.

 

Solona awoke with a start. She’d just had the most terrible dream. She clutched the sheets around her, patting them as if to make sure they were real and she was no longer dreaming. They _felt_ real. She was in her room, in her bed, in her home. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember why she had been so terrified. She could hardly remember her dream now.

“Solona!” A voice called from the other side of the door before pounding on it.

“Mother?” Solona asked, pushing the sheets down and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

The door opened slowly and a middle-aged woman with dark, wavy hair poked her head in. She was homely looking, but at that moment looked frantic and worried. Even just the sight of her provided Solona with an overwhelming sense of comfort and safety.

“I heard you scream.” Her mother walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge beside Solona, reaching out to brush a long strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

“I…” Solona looked away, unable to meet the questioning gaze of her mother’s eyes. “Nightmare.”

“Again?” Her mother sighed in disappointment, turning away herself. “Won’t you let me take you to the Mage? He could--”

“No.” Solona shook her head defiantly. “No mage, please.”

“Solona, there’s no need to be afraid of magic. It can help you.”

Solona shook her head again. “I don’t need magic. I’m fine.” She _was_ afraid of magic. It was strange and it was wrong, and to think that every mage in Thedas possessed the power to summon demons at will was horrifying. Good that they were locked up in towers as they were.

“Your father worries about you, you know?” Her mother spoke softly now, placing a hand on Solona’s knee.

“I… I know. _Please_ don’t tell him. I’m fine, I swear. It was just a nightmare. It must have been something I ate before bed.” She took in a deep breath, she hated making her parents worry. They already had so many things to worry about, what with five children of varying ages, they didn’t need Solona adding to their problems with silly dreams.

Her mother gave her a reproachful look, not at all believing what Solona was saying. “Well,” She said, patting the bed beside her. “You may as well get up now, you can help me with the twins’ breakfast.”

Solona groaned, burying her face in her hands and her mother smiled at her reaction.

“Come on, dear.”

It wasn’t long before her mother had her chopping vegetables in the kitchen and adding them to a boiling pot of water.

A moment later there was a skittering of footsteps on the tiles and young boy ran in the kitchen, laughing heartily and panting, his clothes dripping wet.

“What in the Maker’s name have you been doing Josef?” Her mother turned as she saw the boy, placing her hands on her hips and frowning.

Solona stifled a laugh, turning around to watch her mother wipe her hands on her apron and approach the boy. A moment later a young girl entered the kitchen, her hair dripping wet, her face a thunderstorm of anger.

“Mother!” She shouted. “He threw a bucket of water on me!”

“Honestly, Josef.” Her mother shook her head at Josef and walked over to the girl before brushing the wet locks from her face. “Are you alright?”

“I’m wet and I’m cold and I _hate_ him.” She replied, all but actually stomping her foot on the ground.

Her mother sighed. “Josef, stop tormenting Grecia.”

Josef grumbled and rolled his eyes. “Girls are so boring.”

“Excuse me,” Solona said, waving the knife in her hand at him. “Rude.”

Josef looked at her and gave her a lopsided, easy smile. “You’re not like normal girls, though.”

“Thank you, Josef.” Solona said with a roll of her eyes.

Their mother shook her head again and resumed chopping vegetables, before turning around to address her two youngest children. “Go and wake Rey, both of you, tell him that he is to run you a bath and get you some dry clothes.”

“A bath!” Josef shouted.

“Yes, a _bath._ Horrific, I know.”

Josef reluctantly trudged out of the kitchen behind his sister, mumbling under his breath and leaving a trail of wet footprints in his wake. Solona saw her mother shake her head lightly and take a deep breath. The perils of having five children, Solona supposed. Her mother wasn’t old, but sometimes when she was stressed or tense Solona was reminded of her age, reminded of the grey hairs streaking contrastingly through the dark-brown almost black waves.

“Solona,” Her mother softly. “Have you given any thought to what I said the other night?”

She glanced up at her mother, brow knitting momentarily. “You say a lot of things to me.”

Her mother rolled her eyes and Solona was also reminded of how much they were alike. “About Baron Doucy’s boy. He is of a similar age.”

Solona stiffened. Not this _again._ “No. I haven’t thought about it.”

“Solona, please. I don’t want to have to force your hand in this, I want you to choose a good man, but you’re almost twenty and your father and I are getting old, and _worried._ ”

“I won’t marry him.” Solona’s voice was firm, she wouldn’t get angry at her mother, she rarely did, but she hated discussing this. “I don’t even know him.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? Who will you marry, then?”

“I…” Solona relented, and sighed.. “I don’t know. Do I have to decide now?”

Her mother dried her hands on her apron. “I mean this with the utmost kindness, dear, but there _are_ rumours. You know I don’t mind but...”

Solona squeezed her eyes shut. “I know.” She did, of course, know all about the rumours since they weren’t rumours and were in fact true. She preferred women, not that she didn’t like men at all, she just liked women a lot more. It wasn’t unheard of, but within noble families there was an expectancy that an eldest child was to marry the opposite sex in order to procreate and continue the family line.

“With Leandra’s daughter turning out… as she has. The Amell line might fall to you.”

Solona tried desperately to concentrate on peeling the potato in front of her. “I’ll think about it.”

Her mother leaned over and squeezed her hand. “That’s all I ask.”

When they were finished cooking her mother called out that breakfast was ready and by the time they began to set the plates out at the table most of the seats were occupied already. Solona had four siblings, and was the eldest of all of them. Rey, Lucon and the twins Josef and Grecia. When she looked at them all gathered like this, around the table, she felt a swell of pride and felt immensely lucky that she’d been blessed with such a family.

As they ate Lucon told them about the things he’d learned from the family scholar that day, and then Rey told them all a very lewd and bawdy joke that he’d heard from Gamlen to which their mother looked horrified and clasped her hands over Grecia’s ears and Josef flicked his peas at Grecia when he thought their mother wasn’t watching.

“Is father joining us?” Lucon asked through spoonfuls of soup.

“Haven’t I told you not to talk with your mouth full? Honestly, Lucon, and yes, he should be here any moment.” Her mother said tersely, and then there was the sound of a door opening. “Ah, there he is now.”

They heard a coat being removed and bags being set down before a tall, dark haired man stepped into the room. He sighed, looking tired and frustrated, but he gave his wife a small smile and walked over to her, bending slightly to place a kiss on her cheek. Her mother smiled in response and squeezed his hand.

Solona stared at him. This was her father, indeed, but… something felt strange, she could feel goosebumps prickle all over he skin as she watched him. He looked at her and his eyes bore into her own, as if they were seeing right through her soul, as if they could see into her head and knew every thought she’d ever had. Her head pounded and she pressed her palm to it with a groan.

“Solona, are you alright?” Her mother asked.

“She’s fine, aren’t you, Solona?” Her father asked, not taking his eyes off her. Something was wrong. Solona pushed her chair away from the table, the wood scraping against the stone floor loudly. Her father watched her calmly but never removed his eyes from her, and as she stared at him she saw blood begin to seep from his eyes, a wound open up on his head and a red stain begin to spread across his stomach.

Solona felt like she couldn’t breathe. She rose to her feet and gripped the chair in front of her, knuckles turning white from the effort to keep herself standing. She looked around the room, at her family who were staring at her in confusion and hurt. They began to flicker, as if on the precipice of real and imaginary, her eyesight began to swim, the borders of her vision become blurred and dark.

“No.” Solona said, backing away from the chair. “This isn’t…”

“Solona.” Her father walked towards her. “Stay here with us, your family. You are safe here.” His voice echoed around the room and she felt as if he were talking from inside her, she could hear him as if his voice was her own.

“You are _dead._ ” Solona said, backing away from him. His body was deteriorating in front of her, the skin began to slough from his face, leaving him almost skeletal.

“Solona.” Her mother said, standing up too. She looked normal, the same as she had previously. But her voice was changed, the very sound of it making Solona’s heart ache. “Where are you going?”

“I have to leave. I can’t stay here. This isn’t real.”

“It could be. You could have this. Don’t leave me again, please.” Her mother clutched at her hand and Solona snatched it back, making to run for the door.

The skeletal form of her father lunged after her, making to grab her shoulder and pull her back but she’d already yanked open the front door and before she could fathom what was happening she was falling through white light.

 

Knight-Commander Greagoir paced impatiently, staring at the sandglass timer on the altar as if watching it would make it go faster. He hated Harrowings. The dangerous nature of them always put him on edge, not to mention having to be awake until early morning watching an apprentice lie on the floor. He looked down at Solona and noticed her face was contorted in pain once again, her hands fisting at her side and white-knuckled. Whatever was going on in the Fade clearly wasn’t pleasant. Occasionally there would be a spark of electricity between her fingers and a sizzle would pierce the silence and instinctively he would reach for his blade, ready to strike.

He sighed. First Enchanter Irving looked nervous too. It wasn’t surprising considering whose Harrowing this was and the circumstances by which she had arrived at Kinloch Hold in the first place and that her time was running out.

The remaining time passed silently, Greagoir continuing to pace and Irving watching the last grains of sand slip into the lower chamber with increasing worry.

“Cullen,” Greagoir said, addressing the nervous Templar at the back of the room.

Cullen stepped forward and gave a salute. “Knight-Commander?”

“Ready your blade.”

“Me? But I’ve never--” He stared at Greagoir, his mouth agape.

“Well, today you shall.”

“Wait,” First Enchanter Irving said, wringing his hands nervously. “Please, just a little more time Knight-Commander.”

Greagoir glared coldly as Irving, but his request wasn’t so strange. Usually they were not so strict with the timings, allowing a little bit of leeway after the sand had run out in order to avoid having to execute an apprentice. However, this was one apprentice that Greagoir couldn’t risk turning into an abomination. He already knew, from the reports from the senior enchanters and past experience that Solona possessed a high amount of magical talent, even if she often didn’t execute herself in her classes to the highest of her ability, preferring more frivolous pursuits such as art and literature and being social.

Irving had already delayed Solona’s Harrowing for over year, claiming that she wasn’t quite ready and that she just needed a little bit more time for her abilities to grow. Greagoir had finally snapped and ordered his Templars to escort her up to the chamber and he’d had to listen to Irving complain loudly the whole way up the Tower.

Cullen drew his blade, the sound echoing loudly around the room as he slowly stepped over to where Solona lay. He didn’t want to do this, but what choice did he have? He frowned and breathed deeply to calm his nerves, his hands were shaking terribly. He looked over to Knight-Commander, awaiting the order.

And Solona gasped violently, lurching forward into a sitting position, clutching at her chest. Cullen dropped his blade with a clatter and knelt beside her, his hand on her back as if to steady her. She felt awful, her head was pounding and she was sweating profusely but so very cold at the same time. She stared at her hand that had been Lyrium infused, it looked normal.

“Away, Cullen.” Knight-Commander Greagoir ordered, drawing his own sword and pointing it at Solona’s throat. Cullen scrambled backwards, pulling his sword along with him. “What is your name?” He asked Solona.

“What?” She asked, confused and terrified. Her expression did nothing to soften Greagoir’s resolve.

“Name.” He spat.

“Solona! Solona Amell.”

“Hmph.” Greagoir sheathed his sword and walked away, shooting a look at the First Enchanter. “She passes.”


	3. Warden-Commander of Ferelden

There was a knock on the wood of a nearby bunk bed, Solona turned around and was greeted by Jowan. His face was a mess, he had a black eye and his nose looked like it had been broken, his lips were red and swollen. If he looked this bad now, Solona didn’t want to imagine what he’d looked like before he’d received healing. 

“Maker, Jowan…”

He shook his head at her, a silent plea for her not to ask, not that she needed to, there was only one place he would have received such treatment from. The templars. “I heard you passed your Harrowing.” He seemed almost sad as he spoke and Solona felt a pang of guilt. Jowan hadn’t been called for his Harrowing yet, and whatever happened Solona passing hers at least meant that they would be living in separate areas of the Tower from then on.

“Yes. That’s why I wasn’t there to meet you.” She dropped the things she was carrying onto the bed, she’d been packing up her things ready to take upstairs, and walked over to him, reaching a hand out to touch his face but he flinched back. “I am _so_ sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I waited too long, I was on my way back when they found me.” Jowan was always soft-spoken, but as he spoke now his voice was barely audible and Solona had felt as if she betrayed him.

Solona sighed, pushing her things further up the bed before sitting down on it. She patted the space next to her. “We could talk now, everyone else is in class.”

He sat down on her bed almost reluctantly, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers interlacing. He stared at them for a moment before speaking. “I need your help.”

Her eyes flickered towards his face, trying to read the emotion there. His jaw was clenched with determination. “With what?” She asked lightly.

Jowan then buried his face in his hands. “Lily is pregnant.”

Solona’s jaw dropped and she was taken aback for a moment. “She’s pregnant.” She repeated, unnecessarily. She didn’t need to tell him how foolish it was to even risk a pregnancy in the Tower, let alone one between a mage and a Sister. She couldn’t help the frown that graced her features, she was known for being blunt and to the point but when it came to her friends she was often more sympathetic.

“Yes, I know. It’s stupid. I’m stupid. We’re stupid.” He gave a sigh and tilted his head back towards the ceiling, taking in a deep breath.

“Jowan, this…” She paused, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to comfort her friend, even if she should. “What exactly do you want help with?” She eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “I mean, I can probably brew something if I can get the ingredients--” 

“No.” He interrupted. “We’re keeping it.”

“Are you _insane?_ ” She asked, her voice increasing in volume. She closed her eyes for a moment, calming herself down and allowing herself to relax. “I know this is going to be bad for you… but whatever you experience is going to be nothing compared to what Lily will--”

“They’re going to make me Tranquil.”

 _What._

“Oh, fuck.” Solona shifted beside Jowan, enough to place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. “How do you know?”

“Lily overheard Greagoir arguing with Irving when she went to clean his room. Solona, I… I need to get out of here. _We do,_ Lily and I and the baby.” He looked at her then, and she could see the resolve in his eyes. She’d never seen him look so serious before, usually he was a silly, jovial young man but Solona could see the change in his persona. She looked away after a moment, feeling uncomfortable meeting his eyes.

She looked down at her palms, fidgeting with her own fingers. “You should be talking to Anders, then.”

“All of Anders escape attempts have ended with him being dragged back and beaten, you know that.”

“Yeah…”

“I need to get my phylactery. That way the templars can’t find us.”

Solona looked at him again, still frowning. Surely that was madness to suggest? Their phylacteries were stored somewhere in the basement storerooms, but if it were so easy to get ahold of them why had nobody done so in the past? She knew for a fact that the door leading down to the basement was locked with a key and probably resistant to magic, beyond that she had no idea what enchantments there were. 

“Before you say it’s impossible.” Jowan said, interrupting her thoughts. “It’s not. All we need to do is get into the basement storeroom. That’s why Anders’ escape attempts have failed. He doesn’t have his phylactery.”

“Because he’s a mage.” Solona bit her lip. “It won’t be easy, Jowan.”

“Yes, and they only keep apprentice phylacteries here. Solona, please, I wouldn’t ask you to involve yourself in this if I wasn’t desperate. You… I don’t have anyone else in this Tower.” He looked away again and Solona felt sorry for him. It was true, Jowan mostly kept to himself and she knew the other apprentices thought he was a little strange. They’re arrived at Kinloch Hold within a couple of months of each and of a similar age.

Solona gave him a wry smile after a moment. “You have Lily.”

He nudged her shoulders with his own. “You know what I mean. I’ve known you since I was child.”

Solona felt her resolve wavering. Helping Jowan was bound to be trouble, but what could she do? He was begging her and she was his friend. She was supposed to help him, wasn’t she? And it wasn’t like his cause wasn’t just. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get us into the storeroom. Since you’re not an apprentice anymore, you can request access.”

“They won’t let me go down there without an escort.”

“I know. I’m going to create a distraction, to preoccupy the templars.” He replied.

“What kind of distraction?” She frowned again, the whole thing was being to get more and more complicated.

“I don’t know… a fire? In the library?” He shrugged as if what he suggested wasn’t the most insane thing Solona had ever heard. For a moment, a voice in the back of her mind said; _but what about the books?_ But she decided not to voice this opinion.

Solona said nothing for a while and just looked at her hands, considering all of the options. She wanted to help him, she really did but she was getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. It was a lot of risks, and if they were caught it would mean horrible repercussions for them all. She’d just passed her Harrowing, something that allowed her to continue living in relative peace without that threat looming overhead but now Jowan was almost asking her to throw that all away.

“Solona, please. This is my only chance. If I don’t leave now I won’t… I’ll be Tranquil and…” He shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “What hope is there? Even if I wasn’t to be made Tranquil, what then? If I’m lucky I’d get to serve some pompous noble but I’m not… I’m not lucky. I don’t have the same talent that you have and I know it. I’m no good at magic, I’m no good with herbs…” He ran a hand over his face. “This place has just sucked all of the life out of me and Lily has been the best thing that’s ever happened, and now that might be taken away and--”

As Jowan spoke she felt the guilt wrench at her insides. Everything he was saying was something that she had worried about herself, but she was aware that she wasn’t an untalented Mage. Perhaps not the brightest or most eager to learn but she had a raw affinity for magic that made her teachers nod their heads in quiet approval. “Alright. I’ll help.” She said with a wave of her hand, interrupting his speech.

“You will?” He looked at her, eyebrow cocked in a questioning look, as if he hadn’t expected her to actually agree.

“Yes, but we need to figure out a plan. A proper plan. I… You realise how risky this is, right?”

“Of course I do. Look at me.” He gave a bitter smile.

Solona squeezed her eyes shut. Of course he did.

He pushed himself up, making to leave but turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot. Irving wants to see you in his office.”

“Ugh.” Solona said, running a hand through her hair. “Think I’m in trouble?” She asked with a half smile.

“He probably just wants to tell you to stop corrupting the new apprentices.” Jowan said with a smirk and ruffled her hair, which she narrowed her eyes, swatting his hands away but he’d already pulled them back laughing.

She grabbed the slats of the bunk above her and hoisted herself to her feet before looking back at Jowan again. “I’ll go see what the First Enchanter wants and then we’ll come up with a plan, okay?”

“We should involve Lily.” Jowan said with a nod.

Solona frowned at the idea. “Are you sure?”

“I trust her.” He responded, almost immediately.

“No, I’m not…” Solona let out a breath, it wasn’t uncommon for people to mistake her bluntness for something else. “I’m not saying she’s untrustworthy. I’m sure she is. I just mean... “ She shrugged. “It’s dangerous.”

“She’ll want to be involved.”

Solona held up her hands in defeat. “If you say so.” Jowan turned to leave again.

“Is it worth it, Jowan?” 

“Is what?”

“Lily? Love?”

Jowan tilted his head slightly, turning back to look at his friend. She was looking away from him, she didn’t want to catch his gaze after asking such an uncharacteristic question. She’d never felt anything for anyone that she could consider ‘love’. She’d like people, she’d been really attracted to people, but never felt the undying, desperate love that one read about in fairytales.

“It’s worth everything.”

“Then, I’m happy for you.” She said, meeting his gaze and giving him a soft smile.

“Thank you, Solona.”

 

The walk to the First Enchanter Irving’s office was largely uneventful, as most mages and apprentices were still in classes for the day. The templars that were about eyed her curiously, undoubtedly frowning underneath their helmets. When she reached the door to Irving’s office one stepped in her path, blocking her. Solona closed her eyes for a moment, calming her nerves. Why must they be so frustrating?

“Shouldn’t you be in class, _mage?_ ” He asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“First Enchanter Irving asked to see me.” Solona said with a shrug.

“Did he now?”

Solona bit the inside of her mouth, and nodded to the templar.

“Wait here.” He said, before disappearing into Irving’s office. He came out a moment later and jerked his thumb toward the open door. “Go in.”

“No!” It was Knight-Commander Greagoir speaking. Solona hadn’t realised he would be there too. “I refuse. We have already given enough of our people to this… _war_ , if that’s what you’ll have me believe it is, there are barely any senior enchanters left in the Tower.”

Solona paused in the doorway, watching Greagoir pace around the room briskly. He seemed irate, but he always had a similar air of barely tolerating those around him. His hand rest on the hilt of his sword, flexing occasionally as he spoke.

“Our people?” Irving asked, a humourous tone to his voice. “I thought you’d be happy to get rid of a few mages here and there.” Irving was seated behind his large desk, with another man stood by his shoulder that Solona didn’t recognise. He had dark, tanned skin that spoke of Rivaini or Antivan origins.

“I would be if it didn’t mean I couldn’t--”

The third man cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander from arguing any further. “Irving, you appear to have a guest.”

First Enchanter Irving took his eyes from Greagoir, and the Knight-Commander also turned around with a scowl on his face. “Ah. Solona, thank you for coming.” Irving said, gesturing to the seat opposite his desk. Knight-Commander Greagoir let out a disgusted noise and walked out of the office, to which First Enchanter Irving shook his head at.

“Duncan,” Irving said, gesturing towards Solona who sat down on the chair offered to her. “This is our newest fully affirmed mage, the one I spoke to you about before. She passed her Harrowing last night. Solona, this is Duncan, Warden-Commander of Ferelden.”

“Warden-Commander as in… The Grey Wardens?” Solona asked, surprised. She’d read about the Grey Wardens of course, what limited information that the Circle of Magi in Ferelden held on them, that was. They were a disgraced Order within Ferelden, only recently in recent years being granted permission to re-enter the kingdom at the behest of the late King Maric. Their main focus was stopping Blights, but there hadn’t been a Blight in Ferelden for over 200 years.

“Yes.” Duncan peered at her curiously, as if sizing her up.

“I see.” She replied, nodding respectfully in his direction. Her mind buzzed with questions, but she was also wary of not wanting to appear disrespectful.

“You have heard the news of the war brewing to the south, yes? Duncan is here on behalf of King Cailan, to bring mages from the tower to aid with the war effort. I mentioned your name to him as one of our more talented apprentices, but now that you are mage, you are free to choose to go with him or not.” Irving continued.

“To join the Grey Wardens?” Solona felt a wash of emotion spread over her. If she joined the Grey Wardens she’d be able to leave this wretched Tower but… she’d also never been outside of it in many, many years and she imagined she was enormously ill-prepared for the real world and indeed, for war.

“Yes.” Duncan nodded solemnly. “The Darkspawn are gathering an army. Ferelden needs all the help it can get to prevent a Blight. Mages are invaluable to our cause. I have seen the power that a mage can wield with my own eyes and it is nothing short of remarkable.”

“Surely you don’t think that these invasions could be a sign of a Blight? It has been centuries since the last and the Darkspawn have invaded the surface like this before.” It was Irving who spoke this time, his voice tinted with concern.

“That is true, indeed, but never in this number.”

“Ah, that reminds me.” Irving said, making his way over to his desk, he pulled open a drawer and rummaged around a little, before pulling something out. He outstretched his hand to Solona, who lifted her palm up and he dropped a small, iron ring with the words ‘Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him’ inscribed on the outside. Solona couldn’t help the wry laugh that she let out as she read it, and she looked at Irving apologetically but he seemed understanding enough at her reaction.

“It is but a reminder.” He said, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile “We have a responsibility to protect ourselves and those around us.”

Solona nodded. Honestly, if she thought about it that way it didn’t seem so bad, than if she thought about it as being her who had to be subservient to the Chantry. She, of course, knew that mages possessed a surprising amount of power. Not just with their ability to cast spells, but also due to their affinity with the Fade and their ability to communicate with the spirits that dwelled there.

“I trust you are aware that you are not permitted to speak of the Harrowing with apprentices who have not underwent their own test.”

Solona looked up from the ring and nodded to the First Enchanter. “Yes.” She tucked the ring into the pocket of her robe, unsure still of how she felt about it and what it said, what it represented.

“Very well.” Irving said, clasping his hands together with a clap. “You are free to do what you like for the remainder of the day. I would suggest some rest, myself. The Harrowing is called so for a reason.” He gave a soft smile. “And… perhaps give some thought to the Wardens. They might be able to offer you a life that you could not have here.”

Solona gave a short bow. “Thank you First Enchanter.” She rose from the chair, giving Duncan a similar bow and left the office. She was merely three steps out when she remembered she should probably ask how request permission for things kept in the basement storeroom. She turned on her heels and paused in the doorway again. Duncan and Irving were talking, and it was Duncan who noticed her first that time as well.

“Sorry to interrupt, again, First Enchanter. I was just curious… I can request things from the basement storerooms now, right?”

“Ah. You want to experiment already?” He gave her a knowing, yet approving smile. “Yes, you may do so. You will need to speak with Owain first and he will give you a form to fill out, which you then must have signed by a senior enchanter or myself.”

“I see. Thank you.” Solona replied with a nod.

“Solona, was it?” Duncan asked suddenly.

“Ah… Yes.”

“Would you be so kind as to show me to my quarters? They are…” He looked down at Irving, prompting the First Enchanter to finish his sentence. 

“He is in the guest quarters, on the this floor.”

“Yes, there.” Duncan said with a smirk.

They walked in silence, neither of them leading, which lead Solona to believe that Duncan knew exactly where his room was in the first place. When they reached his door he opened it, and then nodded his head in the direction of his room, indicating for her to join him. She did so, somewhat reluctantly.

“Thank you for walking with me.” He said as they entered into the room.

“It was no problem. I am… glad to have had the opportunity to meet a Grey Warden.”

Duncan looked slightly taken aback for a moment. “Thank you. Truthfully I did not expect such a warm reception. What the First Enchanter said, about you joining the Wardens… how do you feel?”

Solona shifted her weight to the other foot. “I don’t know if I’d be… any good, truthfully.” She hated saying that, hated admitting she was weak, all of her time spent around the oppressive force of the templars and the Chantry had almost forced her to never admit her faults, lest they decree her unable to control her own magic and render her Tranquil. “I’ve never been to war, never left this tower, even.”

“It is more natural than you would think.” Duncan’s tone turned almost sad when he said this and Solona was intrigued, but it was hardly a statement to probe into when she’d just met the man.

“War?” She asked, instead.

“Battling the Darkspawn, yes. It is… a calling of sorts, for Grey Wardens. Our duty. Once a recruit joins our ranks their past does not matter anymore. We have dwarves, elves, mages, we’ve had Kings, Queens, peasants, nobles…” He smiled slightly. “Criminals, murderers. None of that matters when it comes to fighting the Darkspawn.”

Her eyebrows raises ever so slightly. From what she’d read, in her old books, the Grey Wardens were a noble order, bound by life and they died battling the Darkspawn. It was a surprise to learn that they would recruit from criminals. “Criminals?”

Duncan nodded. “Unfortunately, sometimes criminals are very good at what they do. The Grey Wardens do not turn their nose up at such skills.”

“I see... But is what’s happening in the south truly dangerous? Will it spread?”

“If it is not stopped, yes and where they go they spread their corruption. I am… fairly confident that an Archdemon is leading their troops.” He had a calming, neutral tone to his voice but even that wavered slightly when he spoke of the Archdemon.

“An Archdemon?”

“Archdemons are the only beings capable of organising the Darkspawn into a truly unstoppable force. The situation is quite dire.”

“I thought that Darkspawn stayed underground? In the Deep Roads.”

“They do, usually. Unless they are being led.”

“Ah. What about the last Blight? I mean… didn’t that wipe them out?”

“It is nigh impossible to completely eradicate them. They will always be more underground, biding their time, waiting for an Archdemon to rise up and lead them.” He sighed heavily at this and Solona wondered if she were bothering him with all her questions but she found herself immensely curious. Even as he spoke of the perils to the south she found herself wanting to join him, wanting to join the Grey Wardens.

“If nothing else, joining the Wardens will allow you freedoms that you would not receive within the Circle of Magi. You would be free from the shackles of the Chantry.”

Solona looked up, eyes widening ever so slightly. It was odd from someone outside of the Circle or the Chantry to even sympathise with the difficulty mages faced within.

Seeing her expression he gave her a knowing smile. “Yes, you would be able to wield your true power against the Darkspawn.”

Solona let out a breath. “Being away from the Chantry does sound nice.”

“Well, consider it at least.” Duncan said, clasping a hand on her should rather forcefully. “I will be here for the next couple of days should you wish to speak. If you have any more questions I will be happy to answer them.”

“I will consider it, yes.” She nodded sincerely “It is quite a lot to take in.”

He gave a nod and a small smile of understanding and Solona left his room.

 

Back in her dorm Solona was gathering her things again, what little of them that there were. Some reading material, her favourite stories, a couple of history books, a well-worn sketchbook and a completely unopened copy of the Chant of Light that she’d stuffed at the back of her drawer almost immediately after getting it. She flipped open the sketchbook as she piled the books on top of each other, it had been a while since she’d had a chance to draw anything, or the inclination. Things had been so tense and stressful lately that she had buried her mind in her learnings to avoid thinking. It would be nice if things calmed down, maybe after all this trouble with Jowan…

But then there was Duncan’s offer. It was very, very tempting. Getting away from this Tower, finally getting a chance at real freedom, unlike the psuedo-freedom offered to mages by the Chantry; servitude to a noble, healing, teaching, research, there were not a lot of options for an adult mage. None that really stood out to Solona, that was. 

She traced a fingertip across a drawing of robin that she’d done a winter’s past. It was a wonder she didn’t hear the templar approach behind her.

“Did you draw that?”

It was Cullen. Solona jumped, her heart leaping as she turned around to face him, brandishing the book like a weapon. He looked down at it, and then back at her, the corners of his mouth threatening to tug into a smile.

She sighed and lowered her arm. “Yes.”

“Very good.”

Solona frowned at the compliment. She’d been told her art was good before, of course, it was nothing new but hearing it from a templar made it sound… different. It annoyed her that she took it as such praise, but she was also suspicious that it was some kind of trick. 

“Thank you.” She said finally. She wanted to continue gathering her things but the last thing was was going to do was turn her back on a templar in a quiet dormitory.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on passing your Harrowing.” Cullen said after a while.

“Thank you.” She repeated, turning her head slightly to avoid his gaze.

Cullen gave a sigh and Solona almost felt bad for not initiating more conversation, but her wariness of templars prevented her from opening up to him, even though he didn’t seem all that bad for one. “Well, that’s it.” He turned on his heel and began to walk away.

“Why did you help me?” Solona asked suddenly.

Cullen turned around, inclining his head as he considered the question. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

“But you hate mages.” She wasn’t sure what had made her question him, or made her start this conversation. If anything was a dangerous topic with the Circle it was the mage/templar conflict.

“I…” Cullen frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t hate mages.”

Solona couldn’t help but scoff. “All templars hate mages. The whole Chantry hates mages.”

“Not all of us hate mages.” He shrugged. “I became a templar to help, I serve the Maker, and mages are His children too. I won’t lie to you, some of my brothers…” He gave a small shake of his head. “Some of my brothers do hate mages, but it’s born from fear. You have remarkable power. The thought that any of you could turn into an abomination at anytime is… is frankly terrifying, don’t you think?”

“That’s not how it works.” Solona replied. “Well, I mean… it is, but…” She sighed. “Those mages you speak of, that turn into abominations, that resort to blood magic. They’re weak; weak minded and weak willed but that doesn’t make them bad people and… we’re not all weak.”

“No, I know that.” Cullen replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

A silence settled between them after a moment, Solona fidgeting with the sketchbook in her hands as Cullen watched her.

“I should get--” He said.

“I need to--” She said.

They both stopped talking at the same time, and Cullen laughed lightly and despite herself and despite her company Solona felt herself smile too.

“I already thanked you for your help.” She offered, as a way of thanking him again without actually doing so.

“You did. No need to do so again.” He shifted. “Well, see you then.”

Solona nodded and watched him leave and as she turned back to once again try to gather her things uninterrupted her brow knit in confusion. Cullen was a templar, yet he didn’t seem afraid of her, even though he said that the thought that mages could turn into abominations at anytime was frightening. It was a strange departure from the regular attitude of the rest of the templars within Kinloch Hold.

“Oh, Solona.”

Solona turned around at the sound of her name, surprised to see Diana entering the dormitories with a couple of other apprentices. Classes must finally be over, she looked almost exasperated as she stood a distance away from Solona, as if too timid to approach.

“Diana.” Solona said with a welcoming smile, motioning her over. “How was your day?” It was nice to see her again, she was a breath of fresh air in a tower filled with mostly dull, drab, tired and self-loathing apprentices and mages. It was probably something to do with her relative newness to the Circle, perhaps it hadn’t managed to suck the joy from her life yet.

“It was okay.” The blonde girl gave a sad shrug. “I feel like I’m really behind everyone else though. I could light my fire well enough but putting it out…” She shook her head. Diana was a sweet girl, and she looked every part the sweet girl, long blonde hair and bright blue eyes that gave away a lot of emotion. Solona had been instantly drawn and attracted to her.

“Ah.” Solona said, nodding as she remembered having to do the same task. “The putting it out part is the tricky bit, it’s more like… removing energy, than adding it. Draw from the fire.”

Diana tilted her head. “I’ll try that.” And then she walked over to where Solona’s was standing and looked down at the mess of her material possessions on her bed. “Oh, that’s right. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I was supposed to have moved all my things this morning but I keep getting sidetracked.” She gave Diana a wry smile.

“Want some help? I have some time.”

Solona looked at her bed, the haphazard pile of all her worldly belongings, and back at Diana. “Ah, actually, yes. That would be helpful, thank you.”

Diana gave her a sweet smile. “It’s no problem. We’re taking this stuff upstairs, right?”

“Yes.”

Together, and with some assistance from each other, they both managed to grab most of Solona’s things. Solona carried the heavier pile, leaving Diana mostly with the books, which she peered at curiously as the headed up the stairs to the next floor.

“Oh, Maker have mercy on me…” Solona murmured, attempting to juggle the pile of objects in her arms. “There’s a bit of parchment in my pocket with the dorm and bed number on it. Could you…” Solona moved her hip forward in Diana’s direction, indicating to her pocket.

Diana looked embarrassed for a moment, and the blush the spread across her cheek made Solona laugh lightly. Nevertheless the apprentice reached into her pocket after shifting the books to rest on her hip, pulling out the piece of parchment and the ring. She looked at the ring, and then up at Solona with a questioning look.

“Ugh, _that._ ” Solona said with a shake of her head. “Don’t ask.”

Diana shrugged and put it back in her pocket, before looking down at the parchment. “Dorm B, bed 6.”

“B, 6.” Solona repeated. They found the dorm room easy enough, passing past the one labelled A and then finding B not much further along. Solona was pleasantly surprised to see these dorms were smaller, with 6 beds apiece. A little more privacy, even if it wasn’t complete privacy.

“This is nice.” Diana said, walking over to the bed with a 6 etched by the footboard, she placed the pile of books on the bedside table. “Better than the apprentice dorms.” She shot Solona a smirk.

“Yeah.” Solona agreed. “It’ll be nice to only sleep in the same room as 5 other people instead of 15 for a change.” She added with a droll smile..

“What’s this?” Diana asked, pulling open a wooden door in one of the side rooms. “Your own storage cupboard?”

Solona deposited her things on the bed and followed Diana into the small cupboard, there were a couple of wooden boxes stacked up by the back wall, but other than that it was empty. “Huh. I suppose it is.”

“I wish I had this back home.” Diana said, brushing her fingertips across the walls. It was large enough that she could outstretch both of her arms and barely touch both walls. “I could fill it up with clothes and shoes.” She turned around, smiling wistfully and then after a second her smile faltered when she remembered where she was.

“Here.” Solona said, stepping forward slightly, her hands coming to rest on Diana’s arms. “I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you.”

Diana shrugged, looking away. “I just miss home, don’t you?”

“I don’t remember my home.”

“Oh.” Diana said. “This is your home, then.”

Solona nodded. “In a way.” And then she remembered the conversation she’d had with Duncan. “Actually, there’s something I should tell you… I think I’m going to be leaving.”

“Leaving?” Diana asked, looking up at Solona, her brow knit.

“There’s a Grey Warden here, looking for mage recruits. I think I will join him.”

“Wow.” Diana said after a moment. “That’s… really brave of you.”

“Ah.” Solona ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just good at pretending I’m brave.”

“I’ll miss you.” Diana said quickly. “I mean…” She moved her hands as she talked, seemingly wanting to cover up the words that had spilled from her mouth. “I guess I’m a little disappointed, if only because we never got to… see where things went.”

Solona placed a hand under Diana’s chin and pulled her gaze upwards to look into the deep blue eyes there. “We still have a little time.” She whispered.

“Here?” Diana asked, looking around the small, dark storage cupboard. She turned back to Solona, her eyes slightly widened.

Solona shrugged. “It’s private enough.”

“What if the people you share a dorm with come back?”

“I’ll listen for them, don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Diana replied, pushing herself up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to Solona’s. The kiss was gentle enough at first, they were still new to each other after all and it was tentative and explorative. Solona moved her hand from underneath Diana’s chin, the caress across her cheek and her neck. She deepened the kiss, introducing her tongue which was eagerly greeted by the other mage’s.

Solona kissed the corner of Diana’s mouth, moving across her cheek, leaving wet marks as she went until she reached the pale skin of Diana’s neck. She kissed lightly, briefly, before sucking on where she had kissed. Diana’s breath hitched, her hands gripping at Solona’s shoulders. Solona wouldn’t leave a mark, she wouldn’t risk a templar spotting it, so she moved to another spot and repeated the action.

She lead Diana over to the wall in between kisses, so the blonde haired mage’s back now rested against it, and she began to bunch up Diana’s robes in her hand when Diana placed her own hands on Solona’s shoulders and pushed her away firmly.

“Wait.” Diana said breathlessly. She reversed their positions, surprising Solona by pushing her up against the wall rather roughly. Solona smirked into the next kiss that was more passionate than the last, quickly becoming overpowering with desire, Diana’s new found dominance was intoxicating and Solona felt herself clench, felt her hands pull at Diana’s hair tighter than she intended.

Diana knelt down on her heels, tugging at the laces of Solona’s breeches. Solona found that she could only watch her with fascination and overwhelming want, fingers instinctively brushing Diana’s blonde hair to the side and out of her face. Her breeches were pulled down past her thighs, her smallclothes following not a moment later. Diana hesitated for a brief second before placing a hand on Solona’s stomach, lifting her woolen half-robe up and out of the way and then she pushed her tongue between Solona’s warm, wet folds, taking a timid, curious lick up and down. She knew Diana had never done this before, but her apparent eagerness was making Solona’s head foggy.

Solona’s fingers twitched in Diana’s hair as the blonde mage flicked her tongue over her clit softly and slowly. Diana’s other hand clenched on Solona’s bare thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as she began to add more pressure and became more sure of herself and her ministrations.

“ _Fuck,_ Diana…” Solona muttered, her head tilting back, gently hitting the wall behind her, there was a sting of pain but Solona couldn’t have cared less at that point. Diana’s new found confidence and dominance was already going a long way towards getting Solona wound up and close to her climax. Usually it was her taking the initiative, but suddenly being at the mercy of someone else for a change; she found that she really, really liked.

She heard and felt Diana chuckle against her, and Solona instantly felt the heat rise up to her cheeks, damn Diana. Damn her for making Solona lose control like this. She felt helpless, completely and utterly at the whims of the girl between her thighs. Diana’s current whim was quickly pushing Solona toward the edge, she felt herself begin to clamp infrequently, she felt herself becoming wetter and at that time she probably would have allowed Diana to have her way with her, any which way that the other mage wanted. 

Her cheeks were warm and she was sure that they would be bright red if she could see herself, but she found that she didn’t care. She didn’t care for much at all apart from the sensations that Diana was creating, she was vaguely aware of her hand pulling on Diana’s hair and she tried to relax, but at that moment Diana took her clit between her lips and sucked lightly on the nub. Solona let out a low groan, unable to even stop herself before she did. 

“ _Fuck._ ” She gasped again, unable to form any other words, her breath stopped in her throat at her whole body tensed a long moment before her orgasm hit her like a force of nature. She shuddered forward, head falling back in a silent moan. Her hips bucked into Diana, who held onto her thigh tightly, the other hand keeping her somewhat still against the wall as best she could. 

As soon as the haze cleared from Solona’s head she pulled Diana up, crashing her lips against the other mage’s, tasting herself on her lips and her tongue. “Where did that come from?” She asked, panting between hasty kisses.

“I just…” Diana smiled against Solona’s lips. “I wanted to give you something to remember me by.”

“Yeah?” Solona asked, swapping their positions, she pulled her breeches up to her hips again quickly before lifting Diana’s leg, hooking her hand under her thigh. She bunched Diana’s robes up, thankful that the other mage had worn full-length robes and not breeches. She pushed aside her smallclothes, stroking up and down Diana’s length, coating her fingers with the slick liquid. She looked at Diana for a second, kissing her gently, and positioned her fingers at the mage’s entrance.

“Do you want me to?” Solona asked quietly.

Diana nodded feverently in response, her hands gripping into the back of Solona’s dark hair and pulling her in for another kiss as Solona pushed inside her firmly. Diana was unable to continue the kiss, her head falling back and her mouth falling open at the sensation of being filled by the other mage.

Diana whimpered, high, soft, choked moans coming from her throat. Solona was less concerned about noise here, the storage cupboard being at least out of the way and in another room at least, so this time she didn’t silence Diana. Instead she kissed at her neck again, and curled her fingers up against the ridges inside Diana.

It had an instant reaction, Diana let out a high gasp, her hands trembling and grasping desperately at Solona’s arms and she cried out her name. Solona pushed her thigh up a little higher to gain more access and ground her heel of her palm into Diana’s clit. She kept the pace, listening to Diana’s reactions, intent on keeping Diana feeling as good as she could make her. Diana’s hands clutched loosely as she hung onto Solona for balance and comfort.

She could feel the younger mage clench tightly around her fingers and she ground her hand into Diana more rhythmically, moving her hips to provide more friction against the blonde.

“Solona.” Diana gasped out, her hand reaching up to Solona’s head and pulling her lips to her own. The kiss sloppy and eager with heat. Diana’s attempt at kissing was admirable but she couldn’t do much against the ever increasing tension between her legs.

“I know.” Solona murmured against her lips, feeling Diana begin to clamp down around her fingers. She guided the younger woman through her climax with vigour. Diana’s head fell into the crook of her neck, and she gasped, a high, shaky sound. 

Diana’s chest heaved as she attempted to catch her breath, her forehead resting on Solona’s shoulder. Solona kissed her forehead lightly, an action that even surprised her with how tender it was. She brushed the hair from Diana’s face, her hand linger on her cheek, coaxing her chin upwards so she could kiss her softly. Diana whimpered into the kiss, bringing her hands up again to cup the sides of Solona’s face.

They remained like that for a little while, both women catching their breath and allowing their minds to refocus, foreheads resting against one another’s. Diana let out a content sigh.

“I need to get going.” She whispered regretfully.

“Mm.” Solona nodded, pulling away from the other girl. They straightened their clothes and their hair out together, and Solona laughed lightly when Diana began to fasten the laces of her breeches, but Diana just gave her a smirk.

“Try not to let this place get to you so much, Diana.” Solona said, as she reached for the door. “Don’t let them make you think you’re a bad person.”

Diana reached over and squeezed Solona’s free hand. “I’ll try not to.”

 

Solona entered the Chantry sometime later after she’d managed to gather her wits from the encounter with Diana. She bit back a smile as she remembered it, feeling almost giddy at the memory. She wondered if Diana was thinking the same thing, if Diana could still taste her on her lips.

Solona almost laughed aloud at the irony of thinking such thoughts in the Chantry, she imagined if the Revered Mother knew half of what went on in the Tower between the mages she might just drop dead on the spot.

She spotted Jowan pacing by the confessional booth, when he saw her he lifted his arms up, as if asking her why she was so late.

“Sorry.” Solona said as she approached him. “Got distracted.”

Jowan sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” He pulled open the confessional booth door and pushed her in, following her and closing the door behind them. It was extremely close in here, her thighs pressed together between Jowan and the wooden frame. She sighed and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Ah, I almost forgot. Lily,” He said, gesturing to the Sister behind the wooden window. “This is Solona. Solona, this is Lily.”

As Solona had thought, Lily was the young Sister with the shoulder length auburn hair. She had a kind, open face but her expression was pained and worried, there were dark circles under her eyes and Solona felt almost sorry for her. Solona gave Lily a small smile and nod of her head.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Lily said, her smile replacing the worry on her face easily, when she smiled she was pretty, and Solona didn’t blame Jowan for falling her as much as he had. “Jowan talks about you a lot.”

“I do not.” Jowan protested with a wave of his hand. “And if I did it would only be truly awful things.”

Solona laughed. “I don’t doubt that.”

Jowan sat there for a moment, twiddling his thumbs. Solona inclined her head and raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. They were crammed in this booth for a reason, after all.

“We have a plan.” Jowan said, finally.

“Do tell.”

“Okay, so… you are going to request a fire rod--”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why a fire rod?”

“Oh.” Jowan sat back a little. “I asked Anders what was the easiest thing to get permission for to take from the storerooms and he said a fire rod, he said some of the lazier mages use it to light the braziers and lanterns.”

Solona narrowed her eyes. “Okay. I can do that.” And then for some reason she remembered her earlier conversation with Cullen. “I may be able to ask a templar to escort me, too.” The thought made her frown. She knew that it wasn’t exactly right to drag Cullen into the situation, even if he wouldn’t know any different should the plan work, but it still sat uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. Then she remembered he was a templar, remembered that he’d probably hunted and killed mages and she suddenly felt fine with it.

Jowan quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were friends with templars now.”

Solona bristled and shot a glare in his direction. “I’m not. He’s just not completely repulsive like the rest of them.”

Jowan shrugged. “Right and whilst you’re doing that, I’m going to create that fire in the library we talked about.”

“And I’ll grab your phylactery.” Solona added with a nod.

“Yes!”

Solona glanced up at Lily who was watching their exchange. She looked concerned and almost sad as she watched Jowan talk. He noticed Solona’s gaze and reached over to brush his thumb across Lily’s cheek.

“It’ll be alright.” He said softly.

She nodded and sighed, leaning into his touch.

Solona watched them with a sad expression, if she had a moment alone with Lily she might have questioned her. She felt a little protective over Jowan after all, having known him for so long. 

“We need to do this tonight, Solona.” He turned to her now, his expression earnest.

Solona’s eyes widened, she didn’t know what she’d expected but it hadn’t been that. “And you’re certain, about… all of this?” She asked, avoiding Lily’s gaze.

“Yes I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been itching to do a novelisation of my Warden and the Blight. So, here it goes! It's going to be slooooow. Like, super slow burn.
> 
> I tried not to use much of the in-game dialogue, but rather use it as an inspiration for my own and here's some birthdates and heights I'm using if anyone is curious;
> 
> 8:84 - Marjolaine [5’ 5”]  
> 9:05 - Leliana [5’ 4”]/King Cailan Theirin [6’ 1”]/Zevran Arainai [5’ 6”]  
> 9:06 - Marian Hawke [5’ 9”]  
> 9:07 - Morrigan [5’ 8”]  
> 9:09 - Marian Hawke [5’ 9”]/Anders [5’ 11”]  
> 9:10 - Alistair Theirin [6’ 1”]  
> 9:11 - Solona Amell [5’ 7”]/Cullen Rutherford [5’ 9”]/Bethany Hawke [5’ 7”]/Carver Hawke [6’]  
> 9:12 - Rey Amell [5’ 11”]  
> 9:16 - Lucon Amell [6’]  
> 9:22 - Grecia Amell/Josef Amell


End file.
